


my love is strong enough to last when things are rough

by seeingrightly



Series: still i'm thinking about you only [2]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-05-30 03:10:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15087716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seeingrightly/pseuds/seeingrightly
Summary: Hermann and Newt settle into their new life together, really together for the first time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> soooo i wanna write more stuff set in this verse but i think i'm just gonna... add chapters as it comes to me and not necessarily focus on an overlying plot and see where that takes me?
> 
> i will change the rating to mature or explicit as well as add tags if/when that becomes necessary don't worry
> 
> title from abba's "take a chance on me"

 

 

 

 

 

They’re approved for a transfer to a bigger couple’s room immediately. Much of the Shatterdome was destroyed, but many of its inhabitants are gone, so rooms are available. Additionally, the PPDC very much wants them to stay, so they’re able to move the day after being given their ultimatum.

 

For right now, it’s just Hermann’s things being packed and unpacked, so it feels a bit silly to move right away. But the bigger bed is necessary for a number of reasons, and Newt theoretically has the approval to leave the base and buy necessities now, so the room will undoubtedly be filled up with nonsense quickly.

 

Their new space - their first shared space in ten years, and their first that isn’t professional - has a small bedroom, a decently-sized toilet with a shower that accommodates Hermann’s needs, and a very small living room with a kitchenette that Hermann cannot imagine will be used for more than tea and late-night cereal.

 

After Newt drops the final box a bit unceremoniously onto the living room floor, they both sit down on the couch that came with the room. It’s rather unappealing, a sad brown color with some stains Hermann doesn’t want to think about, but it’s remarkably comfortable. He thinks he might want to buy some throw pillows to spruce it up.

 

Newt sits close enough to Hermann so as to nearly be in his lap, and worms his way under Hermann’s arm, and then he rests his feet on the nearest box, shoes and all. They’ll have to get a coffee table, though a cheap one, and Hermann will insist shoes are removed first. Newt likely expects that.

 

“Do they still have weird rules about hanging stuff on the walls?” Newt asks, tilting his head back against Hermann’s shoulder to look at him from an undoubtedly terrible angle.

 

“Not at this ’dome,” Hermann says. “You’re free to nail or tack things up here; upkeep of living quarters hasn’t been a priority in recent years.”

 

“No more enforcing the tape-and-putty-only rule, huh,” Newt says, his voice going distant for a second. “Well, that’s good. I’d like to frame some stuff, hang some art. Decorate like grown-ups, what do you think?”

 

“I think it depends on what you classify as art,” Hermann replies instantly.

 

Newt laughs, just a breathy sound through his nose, and shifts a little to press a kiss to an awkward spot under Hermann’s jaw. He brings his hand up, and Hermann expects him to cup his face, or fix his collar, but instead Newt touches his fingertips to Hermann’s throat.

 

“I’m sorry I choked you,” he says quietly.

 

“You didn’t,” Hermann says, grabbing his hand and pulling it away, placing their hands in his lap. “And I’m fine.”

 

“I didn’t choose to do it but I did it,” Newt says, his voice speeding up and rising in pitch. “Those were my hands. And I had to watch it happen. I can’t just let that go. And you can’t tell me you’re not gonna have, have nightmares about it too - ”

 

“Newton,” Hermann interrupts, grabbing Newt’s face and shifting them both so they can look at one another properly. “Of course. Of course it’s very upsetting for both of us that it happened. But I don’t want you to feel responsible or guilty for it. I know it’s not that easy, and I understand why you want to apologize, but you don’t have to do so  _ for me _ .”

 

Newt reaches up and wraps his fingers around Hermann’s wrist.

 

“Okay,” he says after a minute. “I think I still have to apologize for me, though.”

 

“Will it help you more if I accept the apology rather than tell you that it’s unnecessary?” Hermann asks, shifting so that he’s less holding Newt’s head in place and more cupping his cheek.

 

“Yes,” Newt says, relieved, tilting forward to rest his forehead against Hermann’s shoulder.

 

“Alright then,” Hermann says, kissing the top of Newt’s head. “I accept your apology. I forgive you.”

 

Newt sighs heavily and drops his hand from Hermann’s wrist to rest on his chest. His fingers find one of the buttons on Hermann’s shirt and start absently fiddling with it. After a second, Newt shifts, resting his cheek against the back of the couch above Hermann’s shoulder, still angled toward him in a way that must be a little uncomfortable. Hermann reaches down and hooks his hand around Newt’s thigh, tugs so that his nearest leg comes up onto the couch a little and rests against Hermann’s thigh. He leaves his fingers tucked into the crook of Newt’s knee.

 

“Do you feel a little better?” he asks.

 

“Yeah,” Newt says, though he’s got a new funny look on his face. “It’s weird to be talking about stuff so openly with you. Obviously because we didn’t really talk for such a long time, but before that - we were always hiding shit, covering it up, pretending we didn’t care about each other. I never really pictured that fully stopping if we got together. But it makes sense, as a consequence of drifting and already knowing so much, and then - you know, the issues or whatever we, I mean, mostly I have now - ”

 

He trails off, a resigned expression crossing his face. Hermann doesn’t necessarily disagree with anything Newt has said, but he doesn’t want Newt to only think of what is ultimately a positive and healthy shift as a consequence of terrible circumstances.

 

“I’d like to think it’s more than that,” Hermann says. “We were apart for a very long time. I missed you. I couldn’t share anything with you, and now I get to share everything with you.”

 

Newt flattens his hand against Hermann’s chest, brushing his thumb from side to side absently. He smiles and turns his face into the couch cushion for a moment in a gesture Hermann thinks might be bashful.

 

He recovers and sits up so that he can get into Hermann’s space, sliding his hand up to Hermann’s neck.

 

“You think communicating better is gonna mean we fight less?” he asks, though he’s staring at Hermann’s lips as he does so.

 

“No,” Hermann replies easily. “We both enjoy fighting too much for that. We’ll find a way.”

 

Newt smiles again, warm and big, and leans in, but before their lips meet, Hermann continues.

 

“I’m  _ certain _ we’re going to have disagreements about how to decorate,” he says.

 

“Mhmm,” Newt replies absently, bringing their lips together, and this is a new one, isn’t it; they’re going to get into fights about trying to prevent fights with kissing.

 

This time, though, Hermann will let it slide.

  
  


 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermann heads to Newt’s apartment alone.

Hermann heads to Newt’s apartment alone. They’d had a stilted conversation about it, but Newt doesn’t really want to deal with any of it, doesn’t care what choices Hermann makes, which was equal parts relieving and concerning to Hermann. Newt is having a hard time sleeping, having nightmares when he does, and he’s regularly visiting the new medical team the PPDC brought in; he could be doing worse, and Hermann was afraid that going back to his apartment, going back to where that  _ thing _ is, would result in Newt doing much, much worse. And yet so could any of the decisions Hermann makes, on this day and also in general.

 

Hermann is fairly nervous, actually, riding the elevator up. He has ten years’ worth of guesses as to Newt’s lifestyle, plus more recent, more informed hypotheses, but he doesn’t really  _ know. _ They haven’t talked about it yet, and maybe that’s not healthy, but it’ll only be upsetting for the both of them. This is true of most of the conversations they should be having, unfortunately.

 

The doors slide open and Hermann takes a deep breath and enters the apartment. It’s big, and nearly empty, except for the mess Hermann can see spilling out of the elevated room that must be the bedroom. The main area, the living space and the kitchen, hardly looks lived in.

 

He steps further into the kitchen area, which is closest, and releases a heavy sigh. 

 

“Oh, Newton,” he says quietly.

 

There is a significant amount of alcohol, as well as empty bottles. A mixture of expensive dark liquors and even more expensive wine; nothing Newt would regularly drink of his own volition. There are dirty dishes in the sink, which Hermann ignores, pouring out the alcohol methodically. He wonders if all of the other trials Newt’s body has been through since he first ran off, once the precursors revealed themselves, have distracted from or overpowered any level of withdrawal he might have been experiencing.

 

This is something he is going to have to bring up, somehow.

 

The dirty dishes and the empty bottles Hermann decides to deal with later. He does have a team from the PPDC waiting downstairs to help him move and dispose of things, when he’s ready. Maybe he’ll make one of them wash the dishes and add them to the inevitable “donate” pile, depending on how volatile his mood is once he asks them up.

 

Most of the items in Newt’s apartment are needlessly expensive models of utilitarian items. No garish mugs with overly-specific text, exclusively the type of wall art and lamp shades that surely came with the pre-furnished apartment, nothing but silverware and empty plates and crumbs to show that anyone so much as passes through the main space of what should be a home.

 

Their room at the Shatterdome comes with a chipped, incomplete set of kitchenware that has been passed along among inhabitants. They’re provided with sheets and pillows and blankets, with towels, with basic furniture. They can supplement, but no one does much of that; they just bring the little they already own. Of course it’s partly the low salaries, but even though Hermann is one of few people left who was around for the first war, he thinks it’s a holdover from moving Shatterdomes frequently in the early days, and from knowing you could die at any time. Morbidly practical.

 

Hermann thinks things will be different, at least to a degree, now that he and Newt are living together, now that there is a sensed of forced permanence to their situation, and also now that they need to make positivity where they can. And so it might be practical to keep what are effectively free home goods, but they don’t  _ need _ anything that’s in Newt’s apartment. They don’t need reminders of this life.

 

Nearly everything that’s here can be cleaned up, boxed away, and donated. The clothing in particular Hermann is looking forward to getting rid of. He’s not sure, though, if any belongings from Newt’s old life remain, or if everything was destroyed and thrown away.

 

He knows his answers will be found in the bedroom, the only room that looks lived in, but he can see the greenish glow from the tank on the opposite wall, and he does not want to step into that room. 

 

He must.

 

“Just do it already,” he tells himself forcefully, and then he does.

 

He squares his shoulders and marches up the steps and rounds the corner before he can falter. He looks at it for a long moment, bobbing in the tank. “Alice” is written on the tank it what appears to be lipstick, for reasons Hermann cannot fathom, and yet he suspects that it was in some way Newt’s doing and not the precursors’.

 

“I’ve had quite enough of you,” he says, thunking his cane into the wall of the tank.

 

Then he moves right on past it. It’s mostly just clothing in here as well, even when he starts digging through drawers and into the closet. No sign of old clothing or other old belongings. Hermann lets out a growl of frustration. He had been hoping to bring  _ something _ positive back to Newt at the end of the day.

 

He spots a tablet on the nightstand and picks it up, not expecting anything, but the background is a picture Newt must have taken many years ago. It’s a small sketch Hermann made on a corner of one of his chalkboards when he was frustrated and needed a momentary distraction. He doesn’t remember this particular drawing, which appears to be a very sloppy rendition of Cherno Alpha. He has no idea why Newt took a picture of this one, let alone why he made it his background, except perhaps that it was a reminder of Hermann, one innocuous enough for the precursors not to be able to catch it.

 

It is also, maybe, a clue for Hermann, should Hermann ever end up here. And - yes, it only takes him three tries to guess the password; it was absolutely done on purpose.

 

After a moment’s hesitation, Hermann sits down gingerly on the edge of the bed. He takes his time looking through the files on the tablet, since none of them could have been labeled too obviously. After some time, he finds a miscellaneous document buried in a folder of tax reports, of all things, and inside that document is what Hermann is here for: information about a storage unit.

 

It’s located closely enough to the apartment that he can head there once he’s finished up here. After he’s taken care of… Alice, he can assign duties and then head to the storage unit, so he calls the PPDC team up.

 

He feels a bit bad about having to assign people to an array of tasks that range from washing very old dishes to destroying a very old secondary kaiju brain, but work is work. Part of him is tempted to take an active role in Alice’s destruction, but it would take a while for him to put on all the required gear and then take it back off again, and so he simply stands back and watches as the tank is opened and drained, as she’s taken apart and sealed into small containers. Those won’t be coming to the lab; he’s going to make sure they’re disposed of properly and with finality.

 

Once that’s done with, Hermann pulls up the storage unit information.

 

“Some of you need to come with me to this location,” he says. “Everything else here is getting donated, but I’m not sure about the storage unit.”

 

The brain bits are moved into one truck and send back to the Shatterdome, and a second truck remains outside Newt’s old building to wait for the donations, while Hermann gets into the third with two members of the PPDC team. Hermann doesn’t know what to do with what he’s hoping to find in the storage unit. It might not be productive to hand Newt back all the pieces of his old life. But maybe it will.

 

When they arrive, Hermann gestures for the others to follow him.

 

“Do you… have a key?” the burly man who drove them there asks as they approach the unit.

 

“No, we’re breaking in,” Hermann replies easily. “Go on ahead.”

 

The man pauses mid-step and gives Hermann an alarmed look, so the short woman who Hermann likes the look of steps around him and gets to work on breaking the lock. It doesn’t take her long.

 

The storage unit is not very big. Newt hadn’t had a significant amount of personal items, of course, and Hermann is fairly certain the precursors must have succeeded in getting rid of some of them before Newt managed to put away the rest, however he did it. Newt’s old clothing takes up most of the space here as well. He’s thinner now than he was then, so it might be most practical to get rid of the more neutral pieces like jeans and work shirts and keep the ones likely to have sentimental value - band t-shirts, the leather jacket, his boots and ties. 

 

They pull the boxes of poorly-packed clothing out of the unit. Hermann can sort through those quickly, but first he wants to see what else he’s dealing with.

 

There are multiple small boxes that seem to just contain folders and notebooks, loose papers, post-it notes and photographs. Mostly work, likely, but Hermann spots his own handwriting on one of the first pages he sees.

 

One large box holds Newt’s personal items from his bedroom, which Hermann can tell he knows as a result of one of their drifts. There is definitely sentimental value attached to most of what’s in this box. As he attempts to close it back up, he knocks his cane over, and it makes an odd sound as it collides with the only item still behind Hermann.

 

Newt’s guitar. He has absolutely no idea what kind of reaction bringing that home will provoke.

 

Hermann had been planning to decide on his own what to bring home, to protect Newt from having to deal with anything that might upset him, from having to make the decisions. But just because he knows Newt so intimately doesn’t mean he knows what he wants in any specific situation; it doesn’t mean he knows what’s best for him, and even if it did, it doesn’t mean he should make decisions Newt has the freedom to make now.

 

He bends down carefully to pick up both his cane and the guitar case.

 

“Let’s just bring it all,” he says.

 

Maybe Newt will tell him to get rid of all of it; maybe Newt will pick and choose, or decide he wants Hermann to go through it or just get rid of it after all. Maybe he’ll have a setback when he sees what Hermann is bringing home. Hermann doesn’t know. But he has to make the offer. He owes it to both the Newt of the past who hid these items in the hopes that Hermann would find them, and the Newt of the present whose autonomy is more important to him than nearly anything these days.

 

He gets into the truck and places the guitar on the seat next to him. He has to hope that it will be a gift.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at [ch3ry1b10ss0m](http://ch3ry1b10ss0m.tumblr.com)


End file.
